


This is not science fiction

by inkedauthority



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/F, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkedauthority/pseuds/inkedauthority
Summary: “They turned you into a vampire?"At this, Kathryn laughs, but shakes her head in the negative. “Part feline,” she answers, showing off the canines that are too small to be fangs, but just large enough to be prominent to hunt. “I am faster than humans, I can track, I can see in the dark, there’s always this craving for meat, but I’m still me.”





	This is not science fiction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jungle_ride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/gifts).



> For @jungle_ride I hope you find this interesting.

THIS IS NOT SCIENCE FICTION for JUNGLE_RIDE

* * *

 

 

Kathryn isn’t supposed to be in this situation, but here she is, undoubtedly chained to it no matter how many times she wishes she could escape.

 

There are three meals a day, eight hours of sleep, two hours outdoors, and a whole lot of time to stare into an endless nothingness that keeps repeating the question: “What’s the point?”

 

She’s lived too long, and she’s been through too much, but finally after getting a routine, one would think Kathryn grateful—only she isn’t. She’s caged and there seems to be no way to escape the life of a rat.

 

The creaking of her rocking chair comes to a halt when supper isn’t delivered, and it’s then that she notes something to be wrong. There’s no movement, the house too quiet, and although her body is conditioned to fall asleep at any minute now, she remains awake in fright. A fleeting thought crosses her head, one that has her press against a nearby wall and curse television for giving her such bad ideas; the usual response to call out is discarded, and Kathryn creeps along the walls in the dead of the night to smell the unmistakable iron of blood.

 

It’s everywhere, painting the walls and the floor, and had she been afraid for anything but her own life, Kathryn might have done more than run out the door in her pyjamas, hungry, and with the sight of her butchered nurse haunting her minds eye.

 

XXX

 

If there’s one thing Regina doesn’t believe in, then it is science fiction, and her assistant seems intent on passing her such manuscripts to check when obviously the genre bores her. She can’t go off firing another assistant for a rookie mistake, but she can glare until the girl gets her point and takes the heap of garbage out her office door.

 

It’s been a long damned day, and there’s a possibility for heavy snow within the afternoon. If she wants to make it back in time to fetch Henry, then she has to accommodate for the traffic and thousands of other people who will have the same idea of leaving work early as her. Had Henry just been allowed to stay with her for longer than weekend, then Regina is sure she wouldn’t have called her son’s birthmother, and she most certainly wouldn’t have let Emma Swan of all people talking her into driving back home.

 

“It’s _my_ time with Henry, I’m coming to fetch him no matter if I have to trudge through an ocean to do so.”

 

“Yeah, and Henry will have to swim back in it, and get sick, and hate you for the rest of his life because of it. Okay maybe no hate, but if you die out in this storm, he’s definitely going to hate someone. Do you want your son to end up an emo teenager because he thinks all this is his fault?’ And damn Emma for that psychology degree.

 

“I won’t let you take my time with my son away—”

 

“Then you can take him for the whole of next week. Just make sure you send me a copy of your schedule so I know if I have to pick him up or anything in advance.” If that’s a jab at her professional life, then Regina is not going to dwell on it; she’s already lost the custody battle with Emma because of it, and had she not loved Henry so much, this civility would not be happening.

 

“Fine. But I want to speak to him.”

 

The shuffle of the phone instead of a goodbye tells her that Henry is probably overeager, and has snatched the phone away from his mother’s hand. “You can’t drive out in this weather!”

 

“Henry!” Regina gasps, because surely a greeting will suffice?

 

“Mum, please. The trees are dancing and the car is going to fly with them. I can hear the wind in the background.”

 

“How was school? Are you having fun at Emma’s?” She tries for instead, taking a turn at the intersection to go back home which is closer than Emma’s.

 

“School was okay, I’m having fun, and are you going back home?”

 

“Y-es”

 

“M-u-um? Hello? H-hello?’

 

“Henry?! Henry, hello?” And the line goes dead.

 

XXX

 

The power is out, the phone lines are dead, and it seems mother Earth wants to both bury them all alive and sweep them off to another country. It isn’t safe to move, and Regina is thankful that she makes it on time to shut the door against a gust of wind that rattles the windows.

 

Shining her cellphone light out into the hallway, Regina doesn’t bother taking off her coat if the heating is off, and the sound of her heels against the tile is comforting when she’s all alone in a too large house and with only the howling wind as company.

 

“Candles, candles…” she whispers, rummaging in the pantry where she knows there must be at least one candle left from the pack she had got for Halloween, but when she reaches for them, the only thing that touches her fingers is an empty packet. Never mind, who needs candles anyway?

 

She has enough battery life to last her for a few hours, and then when it dies she’ll just go to sleep—only there are candles lit in her bedroom and a figure sitting on her chaise. The scream that wants to rip from her throat gets stuck in a gasp, the back of her head heavy with fear and her legs refusing to move. If there’s any a time that someone wants to break into anything, then now is it, she supposes.

 

“Don’t be afraid,” the woman says, her eyes glowing red, her pyjama clad legs moving too quickly for Regina to register. It’s easier said than done, because as soon as the woman comes within an inch of her, Regina kicks out and runs down the stairs. She doesn’t care if there’s a snow storm outside, she will brave the weather instead of that thing that’s—

 

Oh no, how did she get downstairs before Regina could?

 

“Regina!” The woman says, and Regina comes to a halt, her coat flapping behind her and her heels slipping on the slightly wet floor.

 

She knows that voice, the voice of a ghost. “ _Kathryn?_ ” She gasps, and her eyes widen to try and see better in the dark. She can make out the familiar figure, the brightness of her hair. It’s Kathryn, and Regina can’t believe it, not after everything she’s been told to believe.

 

“I escaped, I came back.”

 

“You’re _dead_.”

 

“That’s what they wanted you to believe. I’m here, I’m real.” Kathryn reaches out, her fingers brushing along Regina’s arm where it’s safe. She tries to hide her face, to hide the hunger in her eyes, but Regina reaches for her and tilts her chin upwards, the sharp points of her canines visible in the night.

 

She can feel Regina flinch, but the woman refuses to look away. Regina has always been stubborn and prideful, and nothing has changed within the last three years of being away.

 

“What—” Regina makes to ask, pausing as if the question is too absurd to say out loud, but Kathryn steps closer, the smell of Regina intoxicating in ways that remind her of the past that had been ripped from her without consent.

 

“I was infected,” Kathryn says softly, “but I’m not a danger to anyone—especially not to you. Please, Regina, you have to believe me.” Because nothing else is more important, not when she’s just managed to get her foot in the door of a house that used to be hers, to a family that could begin to accept her once again with these new changes. They could try, and Kathryn would be forever grateful.

 

“I want to,” Regina says, stepping away from her, “but how do I know, how can I believe…”

 

“Do you remember,” Kathryn asks, taking Regina’s fingers in her own, drawing her into the space once again, “that day—I called you from work, I told you something was wrong,” Regina nods in the affirmative. “We were working with felines, using their DNA to test survival against human diseases, and we thought that if we could harvest these traits and put them in people who were sick, we could cure them. Turns out we weren’t working on a cure, not when the military got a hold of our research, and when we threatened to destroy everything and leave… they did this.”

 

“They turned you into a vampire?”

 

At this, Kathryn laughs, but shakes her head in the negative. “Part feline,” she answers, showing off the canines that are too small to be fangs, but just large enough to be prominent to hunt. “I am faster than humans, I can track, I can see in the dark, there’s always this craving for meat, but I’m still me.”

 

Like a superhero then, only she hadn’t done anything more than run away from the person who had murdered her nurse, and she only hopes the intended target wasn’t her.

 

At long last, Regina seems to believe this crazy story, and brings Kathryn against her in an embrace. It’s been years, and her house has been empty ever since she had watched Kathryn’s research lab go up in flames on the news. Henry had been devastated and lashed out by finding Emma, and Regina had been put off science fiction novels which reminded her too much of her wife’s career.

 

This, here, it’s more than she can ever ask for, and they remain in an embrace until Kathryn’s stomach growls.

 

Over dinner of rare steak for Kathryn and reheated lasagne for Regina, they talk. The past is brought up, their son, the future, and they both decide that nothing is more important than their family. No matter what.

 

XXX

 

When Henry is dropped off by Emma after the storm a day later, he’s in too much of a shock to see the mother he thought was dead.

 

“So you have night vision?” He asks tentatively after a full day of his crying into Regina’s shoulder, the story told to him through whispers against his hair.

 

“Yes,” Kathryn answers slowly, unsure whether any sudden movements would be considered threatening or not.

 

“Cool.” It’s all it takes for Henry to slide onto the couch next to her and ask a million questions a minute. Kathryn is as accommodating as ever, Henry’s interest in the science of it all rekindling her romance with the intellectual aspect of her condition all over again. Her son touches her canines and strokes her hair, makes her run from one room to the next, and help shovel snow with both speed and strength. He says it’s the best thing that has ever happened, and Kathryn can’t help but wonder if it really is.

 

XXX

 

The problem with wanting to be a part of the family with the government thinking Kathryn is dead is that… technically Kathryn is supposed to be dead. If she wants any sense of normalcy, then she has to get things illegally, and she’s not sure if she has enough contacts for that.

 

A trip to the dentist a week later, Regina holding her hand through it all, and Kathryn’s canines have been shaved down to a normal level. It makes her stick out less, allows her to go to places with Regina like they used to without worrying that she’s smiling too hard.

 

“What do you have there?” She asks Regina, leaning over her wife to smell the ever present scent of apple blossom and cold cream.

 

“Our old documentation, Henry needs his full certificate for this bursary he wants to apply for.” And it’s there that Kathryn sees the answer to her problem. Her death certificate states that Kathryn Mills has died, but Kathryn Midas, as her previous ID states, is still very much alive.

 

“I think we can make this work,” Kathryn contemplates, scoffing at the picture of her with brown hair and an angry face. “I just have to change my hair colour.”

 

“You’re not going to find a cure for this?” Regina asks, standing up from the bed to look Kathryn in the eyes.

 

“I just want my old life back, and these things I have now, they’re not hurting anyone—at least I don’t purr when I eat anymore.” Laughing, Regina circles her hands around Kathryn’s waist and sighs. They could do this, and it would work, especially since the murder over in the nursing home covering for a military base had been exposed, the entire thing a setup for the world to know the government’s true plans.

 

Whoever that nurse was, she did everyone a favour by dying that night, and maybe it was fate that Kathryn escaped at just the right time to report it from a call box after the storm.

 

“So we’re dyeing your hair brown now?”

 

“If it’s what it takes to be happy again, then I’ll dye my hair green.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
